


Five Too Many

by ClothesBeam



Series: Prowlastator [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:43:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5030614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClothesBeam/pseuds/ClothesBeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After messing up yet another mission, Optimus has ordered Prowl to get his Devastator issue under control. The Constructicons may be his biggest fans, but that doesn't make them subservient.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gestalt?

**Author's Note:**

> I've taken liberties with personalities and abilities, so sorry if something sounds strange.

Prowl observed the dark expanse of empty wasteland as the six of them rolled up to the ancient Autobot base. Optimus had all but exiled him out here until he learnt to use the Devastator form for something… constructive.

He transformed in front of the main warehouse before trying the door. Rusted shut. _Great._

Long Haul’s massive servo gently nudged him aside and then set about ripping the old sliding door open. “Mixmaster, we’ll need a solvent to get rid of this rust and grease to get this thing working properly again. We can replace it with something more modern over the next few days.” The mixer stayed in his vehicle mode as he started muttering to himself about the chemical components of each requested substance.

Prowl ignored them both and continued on into the base. If he had his way, they wouldn’t be here long enough to bother replacing the door. He just had to pull the haphazard group of lime green mechs into line behind him.

Prowl recalibrated his optics as much as he could to take in the abandoned base. The sensor-based lights didn’t work anymore: something else they would have to fix. “I can’t tell with the lighting like this, but there should be a cache of energon stored below us. We’ll be fine for supplies if we can find a way to get down there.”

Scavenger wrapped his arm around his and confidently led him into the darkness. “I think that’s the door to the stairwell,” he explained in a chipper tone.

Prowl scowled into the darkness, barely able to see his servo in front of his face. But he wasn’t going to switch his headlights on when some creature could be living in here. Sudden lights might startle it into an attack. “How do you know?”

“Well, I am an excavator,” he said with a shrug. “Night vision, sonic imaging… Finding things underground is my jam! I’ll find you something really great, even out here!”

Prowl sighed and let himself be dragged along for now.

Hook shifted behind them and started walking back to the entrance. “I’ll see if Bonecrusher and I can’t do anything about the lights,” he explained.

Scavenger stopped walking suddenly and let go of him as he began turning the door’s manual opening mechanism. Prowl clenched his fists uncomfortably, but he wasn’t left waiting for long. To his relief the underground passage had red safety lighting that was still active.

“So this place is still getting some power,” Scavenger murmured as he tried to take a hold of Prowl’s servo again.

Prowl pulled away sharply and stalked on confidently ahead, causing the pathetic ‘Con to deflate a little. He checked the left wall first and wasn’t disappointed. The sizeable crate of processed energon should be enough to get them by for the duration of the exercise.

“We’ll get Long Haul to take this up when he’s done with the door,” Prowl said, moving back to Scavenger, who was now poking around inside a fuse box.

The mech smiled at something and chortled as he quickly wrapped the wires around each other. Prowl realised that he was talking to someone over the gestalt bond, probably Hook given what he was doing.

All at once, light flooded the hall above them and there was a great cacophony of squealing. The energon in Prowl’s tanks churned as he raised his gun before cautiously returning to ground level. As he’d thought, the sudden flood of light had stirred something up. A colony of Energy Leeches, or something closely related.

He would run out of ammo before he managed to shoot them all. “Go for the exit,” Scavenger encouraged with a shove. “Mixmaster will take care of pest control.”

As soon as everyone was out of the warehouse, Mixmaster backed up to the doorway and began firing goop straight out of his mixing barrel and into the old base. Given the increase in screeching, it seemed to be working. Prowl tried to keep himself from physically shuddering in disgust at what he’d almost walked into.

He glanced up as Bonecrusher planted himself in front of him with his arms folded. “No matter how much you try to block the gestalt, anyone can feel a reaction that strong. But don’t worry, we’ll have this place cleaned out by tomorrow.”

“All right,” Hook called out. “I think that’s got most of them. Long Haul, Scavenger, you know what to do.”

They drove into the warehouse, trusting that Mixmaster’s chemicals had taken effect already. Prowl stayed where he was, arms folded and somewhat embarrassed. But when he concentrated on the bond, the overwhelming majority of the thoughts were understanding, cataloguing the feeling and preference for future reference. Only Bonecrusher was impatient.

“I don’t do leeches,” he said.

“You don’t _do_ anything,” Bonecrusher replied, managing to look lecherous despite the mask.

Prowl bristled at this and slammed the bond shut, making all of the Constructicons wince. “Hurry it up, we don’t have all night,” he snapped.


	2. Mixmaster

Prowl curled into a ball on the raised berth. Every time he offlined his optics to start a defrag, he started feeling phantoms of the things crawling all over him. Eventually he got up to find where Long Haul had stored the cache of energon. If he couldn’t rest, he would at least do something.

_PROBABILITY OF ENERGY LEECH ATTACK: 0.08%_

His computer reacted to his processor and displayed the information automatically. The tiny chance was enough to put him on edge, after today.

He entered the main expanse of the base and saw Mixmaster was in the middle of unpacking the crate of processed energon they had found down below. Or at least, he had been, until he’d found something that caught his attention and started making drinks with it.

“What are you doing?” he accused, unsure which cubes held normal energon now.

“Making something nice for the boys. It’s been a long time since we’ve had time off like this,” Mixmaster answered jovially from his seat on the floor.

Prowl sighed. “This isn’t a holiday,” he said flatly.

Mixmaster held up a bubbling cube and shook it in a way he clearly thought was enticing. “We’ve been shoved out here to learn to work together. Well, with your attitude, we’ve basically been put out to pasture. I’ve got to do something to beat the boredom.”

Prowl dampened his olfactory sensors at the scent of the intoxicating chemicals. He’d never admit it, but he was far too much of a lightweight to even get through half of that without making a fool of himself.

“As far as I’m concerned, we’re on duty. That means no drinking.”

“Aw come on, they’re not exactly paying you overtime, and I _know_ you don’t think being around us is as much of a chore as you make it out to be. I’ll make you something better than this,” he added, putting the cube down and reaching for a new batch. The bot reached into some compartment of his and pulled out a pinch of something before adding it to the drink with a surprisingly nimble flourish.

The energon bubbled up for a few seconds before turning very pale, almost white. Mixmaster waved away the smoke before handing it to him. “Bottoms up!”

Prowl put a hand on his hip and looked at it sceptically. He sniffed it but was pleasantly surprised to detect only a faint trace of anything that might intoxicate him.

“I’m not trying to get you drunk, I just want to give you something good.”

Prowl poured a sip of the drink into his intake and wasn’t disappointed. He noticed the Constructicon was trying to be casual, but was still focusing on his reaction intensely. “It’s good,” he admitted, immediately feeling a warm cloud of pride and happiness over the mostly shut off bond.

“Want to try something else? I think chlotarium and eneva would suit your tastes,” he continued, rattling off ingredients Prowl had never heard of before as he reached for another cube.

He sat on the floor next to Mixmaster despite himself, and began intaking more of the drink he had.

“You don’t have to finish it,” he said, this time making the energon turn maroon and crystallize subtly at the top. “Those black-holes-for-fuel-tanks will polish it off later. Try this one.”

For better or worse, Prowl drained his current drink before complying, curious about the smell this time. It was even better than the last concoction, and the crystals seemed to melt on the way down his intake. “This is amazing,” he said, even as a warning popped up on his HUD that he was heading for tipsy territory very quickly.

“Heh, you’re buzzed already,” Mixmaster chided, gently nudging him with his elbow. He picked up his heavier drink and settled a little closer to his newest gestalt mate.

“How did you learn about this kind of thing?”

“Well, obviously I was created a Constructicon, but I always had a passion for chemistry. That’s all making a good drink is, you know? But since this interest helped me become a more versatile builder, my little hobby was overlooked.” He grinned and turned to the police bot. “Well, my supervisors encouraged it a little more than they should have.”

“Oh,” he murmured and eyed the strong drink in Mixmaster’s servo. He felt like he'd heard all of this somewhere before. “Let me try some of that.” Mixmaster could feel his curiosity through the bond.

“All right, but you better slow down,” he said, relinquishing the cube. He was pleased to actually feel something from him in the void, but he’d prefer it if the boss-bot was sober.

“I am sober,” Prowl muttered with a smirk, before sipping at the stronger stuff. He cringed at the strong taste and handed it back quickly.

_RECOMMENDATION: REDUCE INTAKE_

Prowl let forth a little laugh at the computer’s display and returned to his own drink. Mixmaster laughed as well, now that he could see what was going on behind the wall, and shifted to sit even closer. He slowly placed a servo on the small of Prowl’s back in part to keep him stable and in part to be closer.

“Finish that off and we’d better get you back to berth.”

“Yeah, I’m tired,” he agreed, slowly tilting into the Constructicon.

Mixmaster raised a brow at him. Maybe he’d been a bit more heavy handed with the drinks’ ingredients than he’d thought? “I might get Hook to check up on you first, though.”

“Ok,” he murmured, able to feel Hook perk up at the mention of him by another bond member. The drink was making him feel warm and fuzzy inside, and as a bonus it was drowning out the computer that usually took up the fore of his processor. “Do you like me better when I’m not a stick in the mud?”

Mixmaster was surprised by the question, given how far down the drain Prowl’s processing power seemed to have gone. “It’s good to relax every now and then, but we stand with you because of your direction, vision and intelligence. And, well, we’re not exactly the nicest mechs either. The good outweighs the bad, trust me.”

Prowl stilled at the serious response and slowly put his drink down. He felt warmth in the bond, and realised it was coming from him.

Mixmaster smiled behind his mask. So there was hope this would get sorted out some time this millennium after all.


	3. Hook

Prowl snoozed on the berth while Hook examined his internals. For a mech with such broad servos, he wasn’t causing any discomfort whatsoever. In fact, it felt quite nice.

“Everything seems normal, Mixmaster. I think it’s all in his processor.”

 _Perhaps_ , Prowl thought absently. He was sobering up again very quickly now that the computer wasn’t near anything that looked or smelled intoxicating. He still felt inclined to keep the bond open, though.

“But, Prowl, it does appear that it’s been a long time since you’ve had any maintenance done on your fuel lines and cords. Everything is a knotty mess, making you run inefficiently. It’s something I could untangle while we’re here.”

Prowl briefly considered the dangers of entrusting his vital organs to a ‘Con. Well, ex-Con, if what they had claimed was true…

_PROBABILITY OF ATTACK: NEGLIGIBLE_

_RECOMMENDATION: CONTINUE MAINTENANCE_

He shrugged lazily, still waiting for the drink to wear off. “Ok, sure.”

The medic reached down for the wires that normally rested under his shoulder blade panelling. His movements were gentle as he began untwisting and teasing out the knots and kinks with slow, firm motions.

Prowl sighed softly and offlined his optics. He was confident Hook knew what he was doing, and he’d been brought back from the brink of death by less skilled hands before.

Time passed oddly when he was this relaxed, probably because he was dipping into recharge every now and again. He sighed again as the medic’s servo ran through straightened wires and unkinked fuel lines, making its way down his back.

His servos continued sliding over his hips, and following the line they made to his front. Hook held him propped up with one hand as the other began working around his pelvic area. Prowl felt his temperature slowly increase as he turned to watch Hook’s fingers tease out his rather more sensitive wiring.

“Don’t be so concerned, it’s normal to react that way,” he said gently. “You’re so tightly wound, I’m going to be thorough while I have the chance.”

Prowl glanced away uncomfortably, but he was suddenly curious about the mech’s relatively posh accent and decent bedside manner. A few of the Autobot medics could learn a thing or two…

Hook’s solid flare of pride burned through the bond before he began answering the unarticulated questions. “A building, a mining machine, a Cybertronian. To me, they’re all the same thing, and able to be engineered accordingly. Looking at medical texts and instructional videos in my earlier days only confirmed this for me. And it’s not as if there’s a shortage of opportunities to practice this sort of thing during a war.”

Once again, Prowl felt like he had heard all of this before. Hook’s hand started working on the wires closest to Prowl’s interfacing equipment. He took a sharp intake of air and pressed his lip components together.

“My interests were useful, so I was permitted to continue exploring them even while I worked in construction. And now I can do,” he gave the sensitive wires a tug, “this.”

Prowl pushed into the touch instinctively, feeling charge build and his temperature skyrocket even as a different mech’s face came to the fore of his processor. _Tumbler._

He sat up sharply and met Hook’s gaze. The medic paused for a moment before withdrawing his servo and replacing his panels.

“Well anyway, I hope that helped you. Rest well,” he added before hastily exiting the small side room Prowl had sequestered himself away in.

He let the plea for Hook to stay die in his vocaliser as he tried to figure out what had just happened. Chromedome interfering with his memory was something he did not need to be reminded of right now. Not on this assignment.

He brought a servo to his forehead as he attempted to get himself back under control. “ _Slag._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's great to see everyone seems to like the OT6 as much as me <3


	4. Scavenger

The sun had been out for a while by the time Prowl dragged his only 59% defragged processor off the berth. Thanks to Hook’s efforts his frame felt fantastic, but his processor kept tripping over itself. He needed clean energon. _Now_.

He opened the door to the main expanse of the warehouse to find four of the Constructicons working on the door, and other electronics the base sorely needed. He looked around for the fifth as he approached the container of energon, only to have Scavenger pop up next to him excitedly and offer him a cube.

“Hi! Mixmaster said you’d be looking for something normal, so here it is!”

Prowl leaned back from the fidgety bot’s enthusiasm before accepting the energon. “Uh, thank you.”

“Hey, did you know there’s a deposit of crystal under this structure?”

Prowl wondered why the bot sounded so nervous. They had been conversing normally yesterday. “No, I did not know that,” he muttered absently, relieved to feel real energon making its way into his tanks. Hopefully the chemicals from last night’s drinks would flush out later today.

“Well uh, it’s small but it’s there, real pretty like,” Scavenger faltered slightly now that he was losing Prowl’s attention. “I made this from it!”

Prowl glanced back at the sudden movement of the ‘Con reaching behind the energon container and pulling out a metallic canvas. He flipped it around and shoved it in the police bot’s face.

Prowl gazed at the impressionist piece made up of crystal shards bound to the canvas. It didn’t _look_ like Devastator, but in his spark he could tell that’s what it _was_. The image was rather different to the one he had concocted of the experience.

With further prompting in the form of enthusiastic proffering, he took the image in his servos. “It was great. To be whole again,” Scavenger babbled.

Prowl had come to recognise the want for recognition, but it was hard to be sincere this time. “It is beautiful,” he said honestly, “but it doesn’t quite match my impression of the experience.”

Scavenger looked surprised. Before he could ask why, Prowl continued talking.

“Let me guess, you had a passion for this despite your alt mode, and were encouraged to pursue it because design was useful for a construction worker?” Somehow he already knew that was wrong.

Scavenger shook his head. “I _have_ always been interested in art, but before the war I wasn’t permitted to make it, and now I get scorned by other Decepticons if I do. Scrapper was more of a designer, I just like making pretty patterns. But they all call it a waste of energon.”

Scavenger looked up hopefully, but Prowl was going to disappoint him. “That’s because it is.”

The ‘Con deflated sadly. “But doesn’t this one help you even a little? Devastator doesn’t have to be terrible, or even devastating. We just need to agree on what we’re doing.”

Prowl was about to refute this, but found he couldn’t quite take his optics off of the image. Opening the gestalt bond did actually feel fulfilling.

“You can’t just order us around in that form. We have to all want the same thing,” he reiterated. “Scrapper was good at getting us all on the same page before a battle, on the few occasions we had time to plan in advance. You’re smart, you can probably do it even better.”

“I see. Thank you, Scavenger,” he said more sincerely this time. Warmth bubbled through the strangled bond, even though thinking of the deceased gestalt mate had dampened his mood.

Prowl took the image and the energon cube back to his quarters to think about this new development. “Um, Prowl?”

He turned back distractedly once he reached the door. “Hm?”

“You want another one of those, or should I stop ‘wasting time’?”

Prowl cycled his optics and slammed the manual door that separated his room from the rest of the base. Almost as satisfying as a table flip. He should get one of these back home…


	5. Bonecrusher

The Constructicons usually struggled with the concept of personal space, but they were mostly leaving Prowl to his own devices lately. He scrolled through the Autobot officer newsfeed out of habit, even though there was no connection for it to update with anything new out here. He eventually put the datapad down and glanced at the picture resting on his berth one last time before turning it over and returning to the main room of the warehouse.

It was now empty of all bright green activity, but the new door was fixed to work just like an automatic one. Prowl was soon outside, driving across the wasteland. He felt better while driving, when the computer was calculating high-speed manoeuvers instead of his personal life.

Curious about where the others had gone, he tentatively opened the bond a little to let them know he was thinking of looking for them. Most of the team was digging underground and searching for the base’s power source, but Bonecrusher was seated alone on a giant mound in the wasteland.

_Over here_ , the bulldozer impressed through the bond. Suddenly the path to him was clear to Prowl. It was nice to think they could never truly lose one another.

He snapped out of that line of thought and slammed down his accelerator.

* * *

Prowl transformed so he could climb the mound. Bonecrusher waved down at him lazily as he pulled himself up. He settled next to the ‘Con a comfortable distance away.

“I’ll give it to the Prime, he can really pick a location. The wasteland’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

Prowl tilted his head, and replied as bluntly as ever, “No. There’s nothing out here and it’s inhospitable.”

Bonecrusher nodded uncaringly, but didn’t take his optics from the expanse of land below. “It’s strange I was created a Constructicon when demolitions is what I really live for. Damn Scrapper, always making plans for things to be put up on top of all my hard work.”

Prowl vaguely realised the badmouthing was a joke and he shrugged. “Just don’t tear down the old base while we’re living in it.”

“Being Devastator may be the most fun I’ve ever had, but I wouldn’t trample all over my gestalt’s hard work.” He finally turned to look Prowl directly in the optic. “Unlike someone.”

Prowl was about to reply defensively, but Bonecrusher continued. “The others may be willing to tiptoe around and wait for you to sort your scrap, but not me. Pull your finger outta your exhaust and use your smarts to sort this bond out before the others get hurt more.”

“The others?” he asked sceptically. _They_ were the ones who had taken him along for a rampage…

“No, it wasn’t,” Bonecrusher corrected his line of thought. “Megatron ordered that, but because we couldn’t agree on nothing everything went to scrap. If you don’t want Devastator to express your survival instincts, then get it together!”

“How am I supposed to fix something that was forced on me?”

Bonecrusher turned to face him properly before rolling forward onto his knees to put his face in his. “It’s not that hard to figure out, is it?” he demanded and tapped Prowl’s chest, right over his spark.

“M-merging?” he asked, trying to keep his composure but obviously failing.

“Yeah, willingly, with each of us. Then we can become Devastator without losing it.” He dropped back a bit now that he’d made his point. “Why do you think they’re all trying so hard to seduce you?”

Prowl cocked his head to the side and retorted, “Well, you don’t seem to be trying very hard.”

“Oh, did you want me to?” he asked, roughly putting his face right in Prowl’s and grabbing his waist.

Prowl turned his head away and brought up a servo defensively. “That’s not necessary.”

Bonecrusher shrugged and backed off properly this time. “I think it’s Long Haul’s turn,” he muttered absently, turning away. “You can be a big prick, just not to the gestalt. Not to yourself.”

Prowl nodded and found himself automatically reaching out for the biggest mech through the bond. It wasn’t difficult to locate him.

Time to return to base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk, Autobots have an RSS feed? Spacebook? :P


	6. Long Haul

When Prowl arrived back at the base, Long Haul met him outside. “Oh good, Bonecrusher didn’t scar you for life,” he muttered, beckoning him to sit down outside on the shady side.

“Close thing,” he replied, equally as quiet. He remained standing.

“I know Bonecrusher isn’t at all repentant, but I feel like we should apologise at least a little. Whether intended or not, we _have_ taken you from your old role in the front lines.” He sat heavily, massive hands resting in his lap. “I always wanted to be a warrior.”

“But you were always stuck with building things? Until Devastator.”

The large mech nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, lugging crap around gets old real fast. But that’s why I love combining. It’s a chance to get out there and _do_ something.”

“But it’s just mindless destruction,” Prowl replied with a frown. Surely building was more mentally challenging, and meant more in the long run?

“At the moment it is, and it’s still better than nothing. But, it doesn’t have to be this way. You could change it all if you’d just let us in,” he explained in a deep, steady tone. Prowl found it comforting. Grounding.

He leaned against the wall of the base and folded his arms. Even though Long Haul was sitting, their heads were nearly on the same level. “I don’t like it when others mess with my mind.”

“I know,” he rumbled, and Prowl could feel he did, intimately. “We’ve all seen what’s happened to you, just as you saw impressions of us. Your resilience and inability to give a damn what others think of you are admirable.” When the silence continued he added, “But we all want to help you, and we all can.”

Prowl glanced at him curiously, folding his arms the other way. So that was why everyone’s stories sounded so familiar.

“Obviously Hook knows more about this kind of thing than any of us. I know you struggle with him because of his similarities to Chromedome, but he’s one of us,” Long Haul added at Prowl’s evident discomfort.

“But don’t discount the others. Mixmaster is good at listening. He’s also the oldest of us, so gives the best advice.” Long Haul spoke as if he was professing his love, which Prowl supposed he was, in a way. “Bonecrusher is ready to defend anyone’s honour, even if it’s always going to be with his fists. Scavenger is, well, an airhead who needs constant validation, but he’s also the one most willing to heap positivity on others.”

Prowl waited, but it didn’t seem he was going to continue. “And Long Haul is strong enough to pick up and carry whoever’s falling behind.”

Long Haul glanced away sheepishly, but his warmth at the indirect compliment was almost scorching. “Well, I try,” he murmured. “Just know, no one here is going to betray your trust or judge your memories.”

_I’m judging you,_ Bonecrusher corrected out of the blue.

Long Haul shook his head and ignored him for now. “It would be just like betraying ourselves. Frankly, we’re one unit now, whether you like it or not. We may as well make the most of it.”

Prowl nodded his acceptance before moving away from the wall. “I need time to think.”


	7. Devastator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more Explicit than Mature? I’m not sure how it became a sexy spiritual quest, but _no ragrets_.
> 
> Spark bonding and plug ‘n’ play interfacing be here.

Prowl sat contemplatively in the room he had sequestered himself away from the others in. He was glad they had given him some privacy when he’d asked for it. Before this little trip, they used to cling to him when he did this. But now they seemed to have realised that he wasn’t going anywhere. He was just more used to being alone, and needed the time to recuperate.

He concentrated and opened the bond a small way, immediately being greeted by Scavenger, then the others one by one. He could see they were underground again, mining for building materials. He wasn’t entirely sure why they were bothering, and neither were they. All they could say was that they were bored, and it felt right.

Prowl’s mind wandered to the messages he’d been getting from them over the last few days. To make the gestalt function the way they wanted they would have to spark bond again, but properly this time.

 _You offering?_ Bonecrusher asked, and Prowl could feel the smirk as though his own mouth had formed it.

When he gave the affirmative, their shock was tangible. _The sooner we get out of this wasteland, the better._

The group hastily made sure their workspace was still structurally sound before hurrying back into the basement and up the stairway. Prowl left his room, almost backing down at the last minute. Their reaction was flattering, but more than a little overwhelming.

For a moment they stood at opposite sides of the warehouse awkwardly. Hook continued moving forward first, closely followed by Scavenger. They met Prowl in the middle somewhere, and he met each of their optics in turn.

“All right, let’s get this over with,” he said hesitantly. He raised his servos to cover his spark chamber.

Hook smiled at him and shifted to stand akimbo. “It doesn’t have to be all _that_ unpleasant.”

“Yeah, let it happen naturally,” Long Haul placated.

“Let’s have some fun first.” Bonecrusher, of course.

Mixmaster tilted his head up in exasperation and pushed Scavenger into him. The clumsy ‘Con stumbled forward, and Prowl realised even their smallest member was bigger than him. He braced himself until the other got his balance back.

“Just get on with it,” Bonecrusher snickered.

Scavenger shrugged and cupped the side of his face with one servo, and the small of his back with the other. He leaned in swiftly and mashed his mouth against Prowl’s, who was shocked by the intimacy of the clumsy gesture.

He noticed the other gestalt members shift around them, but then the kiss deepened and he stopped paying attention to anything. Scavenger pushed down on his shoulders insistently and he sat, only to be pulled into Long Haul’s lap.

The larger mech ran his hands up and down the inside of his thighs, gently keeping his legs splayed. Hook sat next to them, patiently tracing a finger over his waist and hips. Scavenger returned to his mouth, sidling up to practically sit in his lap.

The plating of his torso shifted slightly as his temperature increased. Hook became bolder and dipped his hand to stroke his interfacing panel. Prowl grit his dentae and jerked his hips into the touch.

“Hm, you like that?” Bonecrusher muttered by his audial, seemingly content to watch for now.

“I think you’ll like this more,” Mixmaster added as he shoved Scavenger’s head down.

Prowl groaned and his panel retracted in response. Scavenger played with his interfacing equipment enthusiastically. “Look, his port is sparking already.”

“Yeah, so is yours,” Mixmaster said, rubbing his hand over the smaller mech’s exposed crotch.

Prowl brought a servo to his head and pressed his lip components together. He could also feel Mixmaster touching Scavenger through the bond. It was driving him crazy. As he deepened the bond connection, he found his spark chamber was parting as well.

The Constructicons stared down in awe as the pale light flickered across their visors and faces. “Who’s going first?” Hook asked, and they all looked to Prowl.

“I-I don’t care,” he choked out.

Long Haul’s large servos easily picked him up and turned him in his lap. “I’m ready,” he said as his chest plating also moved aside.

Prowl nodded and let him press their sparks together. He was dragged deeper into the bonded state, and offlined his optics so he could concentrate. Long Haul seemed to be everywhere at once, filling his very being.

_What do you want to achieve with Devastator?_

_Depends on the situation. I just need you to do what I say…_

There was a rumble and he realised the large mech was laughing. _No, what’s your long term goal? Autobot victory?_

He couldn’t say that was quite right. _Self-preservation, minimal loss of sparks… That kind of thing._

_All right, I understand. If you connect what you want me to do with those goals, I’ll listen._

_Thank you._ The connection dimmed back down as their sparks retreated back into their casing.

“I think we’d better let Scavenger go for it before he blows a fuse,” Hook said mildly, clearly amused by his sqirming against Mixmaster’s servo.

Prowl took a moment to cycle air and reorient himself before turning around in Long Haul’s lap. Scavenger immediately jumped on his plug, chest plates parting jerkily. His shoulders tensed and his chin dipped in pleasure before he glanced up, as though asking permission to proceed.

Prowl leaned forward until Scavenger had been pushed into the ground and he was kneeling over him. The charge rocketed through his frame as he moved closer, pressing their torsos together for the merge.

_Oh Prowl, I love you._

He was confused by the sudden outburst. _Why?_

Scavenger seemed to realise what he’d just said, or felt, and became embarrassed. _What do you mean ‘why’? We’re of a kind!_ There was another bout of shaky hesitation before, _If you ever need anything, just ask!_

This was a lot easier to deal with than Long Haul’s cryptic attitude. _Right. Your devotion is overwhelming and surprising, but I appreciate it all the same._

They parted slowly and Prowl onlined his optics again, seeing the mech sprawled beneath him. Scavenger smiled up at him slightly.

“All right you two, we don’t want anyone overloading yet,” Mixmaster scolded lightly. “We still have to combine after all of this.”

Prowl glanced up sharply. He hadn’t realised that had been part of the deal.

“If we can’t combine properly right after sharing a spark bond, we’ll never be able to,” he explained. “I understand if you don’t want to right now. It just means we’ll have to go through all of this again.”

Prowl nodded, accepting this, as he withdrew from Scavenger. He whined, but sat up again of his own volition. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Prowl admitted, “but I understand.”

“All right,” Hook began from behind him as his chest plates were the next to part fully. “It seems you and I have something complicated to sort out. Working through it should allow everyone to settle down a bit.”

Prowl nodded before turning around and letting himself be pulled into the crane’s lap. As soon as they had established a bond, Hook began sifting through his memories, seemingly looking for something in particular.

 _It’s like I thought, there’s damage here._ He indicated a small part of Prowl’s processor that was disconnected from the rest. _Something about Chromedome?_

_It must be the missing memory, the one that let Bombshell have his way with me._

_With US_ , the rest of the gestalt corrected.

Realising they were right, Prowl released a sigh and finally let the bond open properly. Hook seemed to stumble across another issue when he did this. _Prowl, it looks like there’s an old bit of mnemosurgery here. It seems to be partially responsible for your inability to handle your drink._

_What are you talking about?_

_You’re being made to associate even one drink with deep relaxation and sleepiness. Maybe… something ‘Tumbler’ left behind?_ Hook suggested.

 _So that’s why he’d pull out the drink when we were in the middle of a tough case._ He found he couldn’t quite be mad at the mnemosurgeon right now. It had probably been done for Prowl’s benefit as much his own. But that was no reason to secretly mess with his mind and leave it that way for millennia.

_We aren’t trying to change you. And… I won’t hurt you like he did. Even in a purely practical sense, it would be like hurting myself._

Prowl distantly realised he had let the head of his frame rest on Hook’s shoulder. He was, finally, beginning to believe he could trust them.

Hook pushed him back, separating their sparks and allowing them both to snap out of their reverie. Prowl once again took a moment to stabilise himself, and remind himself of his identity as an individual, before turning back to Mixmaster.

He slid forward and reached out to cup his still-exposed spark. Prowl shivered at the gentle touch to the most vulnerable part of his body. A few short days ago he wouldn’t have so much as opened his chamber, let alone allowed something like this.

He reached out a pair of shaky servos and rested them on Mixmaster’s chest. The plating slid aside under his fingertips, revealing the brilliant light of a spark. Prowl shuddered when he felt Scavenger begin touching himself again.

Mixmaster shook his head at Scavenger and decided to hurry things up a bit. He moved forward and pressed their chests together.

 _I’ll keep this short since Scavenger is impatient and Bonecrusher is going to drag things out,_ he explained.

Prowl smiled, but simply waited for him to continue.

 _You’re far more independent than the rest of us, which makes us feel lonely sometimes, but it also means you have an interest in the affairs of the wider world,_ Mixmaster said gently, holding him close and supportively. _We want to help you in your ambitions, but only because you can protect the gestalt from outside forces._

 _I’m not so sure about that,_ he replied, thinking of the disaster that had led them to this point.

_Well, you’re more capable of it than the rest of us, short-sighted as we can be. The point is, this support needs to be mutually beneficial to work._

Prowl nodded as they slowly parted, sitting back for a moment before saying, “I’m beginning to understand that. Hurting anyone here would be the same as doing it to myself.” Mixmaster nodded and let him go.

Prowl finally turned to face Bonecrusher. The bulldozer sat with his arms folded, waiting. Prowl shifted across the floor to sit before him, not quite sure where to begin, since all of the others had pushed themselves on him first.

Bonecrusher tilted his head. _You_ _a_ _ren’t even going to buy me dinner first?_

His words were spoken through the bond, but everyone present could hear them loud and clear. They were all so… _close_.

 _If you’re good_ , Prowl replied in kind, sarcasm palpable. To his surprise Bonecrusher warmed up to the idea quickly, making him feel his words had been slightly misinterpreted. His frame was warm to the touch as the police bot sat in his lap. Prowl drummed his fingers on Bonecrusher’s chest when the plates didn’t move to reveal his spark.

Long Haul wrenched him down to lay on his back, giving a tired sigh. “We’re not doing this to overload. Why do you have to be like this?”

“I’m shy,” he replied, smirk obvious despite the mask.

“I find that hard to believe,” Prowl replied, rocking back on his pedes so he could part the bulldozer’s legs, before moving back into place to spread them with his knees. Bonecrusher’s legs tightened around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Show me what you’ve got, oh _leader_ ,” he challenged.

Prowl had the thought to restrain his arms, and Long Haul responded immediately. It was easy for him to hold the mech down. Bonecrusher nodded his approval, and Prowl pressed into him. He groaned as the charge danced between them.

“Yes, yes, more,” Bonecrusher moaned, sending another bout of charge through the connection.

Prowl traced the seams that would allow for his chest plating to shift. “Give me your spark first.”

Bonecrusher took a sharp intake of air while tilting his head back, before fulfilling Prowl’s demand. The police bot rewarded him for his compliance by returning the charge, before leaning forward to commence the merge.

Bonecrusher made a grunting sound and sent pulses of charge through both his port and the bond as his arms wrapped around Prowl’s frame. Long Haul had let him go, it seemed. _I guess the others had their own conditions, but mine’s simple. Don’t hurt the gestalt members anymore._

Prowl nodded, part of him having expected this protective behaviour. _I get it. I’ll make the gestalt my highest priority._

 _You’ve shown you can take the lead. Now take it,_ Bonecrusher said, pushing the bond open as far as it would go. The others joined, and Prowl found himself responding easily.

He cycled air carefully as he concentrated on what he, _what they_ , wanted to achieve. It wasn’t difficult when everyone around him clearly just wanted to get off.

Scavenger’s crystal impression of Devastator came to mind right before they all _changed_.

_FORM DEVASTATOR!_

Devastator sat on his knees, head brushing the ceiling, spark chamber already hanging open. He reached into himself and caressed the giant, bright spark. A swirling mass of six intertwined lives. He strained in pleasure, rising along with his increasing satisfaction.

Eventually he stood on his knees, head having burst through the ancient ceiling without a care. He shoved his other hand inside of himself, charge building throughout the entire gestalt.

Finally Devastator, and all of his components, reached sweet release. His optics offlined as the charge crackled through his frame. He let himself fall backward, further crushing the ceiling, but not having the capacity to care.

Devastator let his chest plates close over his rapidly pulsing spark, and he comfortably slipped into recharge.

* * *

 

When Prowl woke, Scavenger’s face was right in his, and there was a scrap-eating grin plastered over it. He flinched when there was a loud crack and he heard more of the ceiling come crumbling down.

“You’re safe over there,” Hook assured from across the room. He was standing at the top of a makeshift ladder, trying to prevent the same thing from happening again with Long Haul and Mixmaster’s help.

“See, still devastating things,” Prowl groaned, holding a servo to his aching processor.

“Well, actually we all just had the most satisfying overload ever. We should have gone outside, though.”

“We could always combine and rebuild this place so it’s suitable for Devastator,” Bonecrusher added.

“Again? Now?”

“No, you can rest first and think about how inspiring my useless art is,” Scavenger replied, seeming to have come to the reason for his smugness.

Prowl sighed, not having the processor capacity for this at the moment. He decided to just lie down flat again for now.

_PROBABILITY OF DESIGNATION:“SCAVENGER” HAVING REASON TO GLOAT AGAIN THIS CENTURY: 1.22%_

* * *

 

Optimus and Arcee stopped a ways from the old Autobot base, staring across the vast expanse of wasteland. With a bit of optical zooming it soon became clear that Devastator was not, in fact, destroying the base. He was simply installing a taller roof, something even he could stand under.

“That was quick,” Arcee remarked. “Should we go over? He might just be tame because there’s nothing to devastate out here.”

“There is only one way to know for sure,” Optimus agreed.

Arcee took off immediately, morbid curiosity leading her forward. She froze when Devastator’s head turned swiftly to eye her. “Hello Arcee,” he rumbled slowly.

She tilted her head to the side slowly, incredulous. “ _Prowl!?_ ”

“Devastator,” he corrected, turning back to his work.

Optimus came to a halt beside Arcee. He hadn’t come expecting a successful mission report, only to make sure they were all on track and still had somewhere to live. “It appears as though you are ready to return to duty.”

“Devastator like here,” the giant mech replied, pausing in his roofing effort. There was something terrifying about a bot six times your size staring down at you with laser sharp focus.

“Maybe we should come back for retrieval at another time,” Arcee muttered.

Optimus conceded with a nod.

“Well then… we’ll be back!”

Devastator simply stared as they made their exit, and then returned to building.

Once they had finished retreating, Optimus shook his head in slight disbelief. Maybe there was hope for Prowl after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other fic in this "series" is more about Chromedome, but assumes the events in this fic have already transpired. I'll hopefully be writing a proper sequel to this fic with the 'Structies soon!


End file.
